


The Notebook

by Rosebudwhite



Series: Steve and Matilda [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Angst, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hydra (Marvel), Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-01-21 13:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1551914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosebudwhite/pseuds/Rosebudwhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Matilda Adams has one of the most boring jobs possible within S.H.I.E.L.D. and its usefulness to the organisation is coming to an end.  As she ponders where her career might take her next, the organisation starts to crumble around her and an innocent friendship might be the only thing stopping a bullet going through her head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story contains spoilers for Captain America: The Winter Soldier and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Though first chapter is fairly innocuous, it is set just after Steve’s visit ‘downstairs’ with Fury, and is deliberately short as it is almost a prologue.
> 
> I would gladly welcome plenty of feedback. I’m always scared about writing ‘in universe’ stuff as, ironically, I feel you can’t take quite as many liberties as you can with RPF!

Her job was ending.  Every day more books disappeared as their information became available digitally.  The library and archives used to fill several buildings by themselves until S.H.I.E.L.D. started to appropriate Stark technologies.  Now she had just several dozen bookshelves and a shredder.

Agent Matilda Adams sat behind her terminal as another book went through the scanner.  The technology amazed her on a daily basis.  She loved books, but watching the information that they contained float into the room as they were scanned, analysed and archived was a marvel in itself.  The terminal flashed up ‘Complete’ and she pulled her white gloves back onto her fingers.  With the utmost care, Matilda lifted the book off the smooth surface and placed it back into its protective box.  With a definite click, the box closed and she lifted it onto the trolley.

Matilda had landed in S.H.I.E.L.D. by accident.  Unlike others who passed through the agency’s doors each morning, hers had not been an amazing journey of her talents wowing some great high up agent and being headhunted.  She had replied to a small advert in her alumni newsletter, and when she had turned up to the interview it was nothing more than asking her to take three exams on identifying texts, archiving theory, and a history paper.  She did not even know it was for S.H.I.E.L.D. until an agent turned up at her door with her complete biography in his hand.  Her family thought she worked at the Smithsonian, which was sufficient to placate her parents that the 3600-mile move was worth it.  Yet now she could see a return to Manchester, the British one, in her immediate future as General Archives Librarian became a redundant position.  She had not been through their academies so she did not have the knowledge or expertise to transfer to one of the ‘proper’ research divisions.  Yet, would they let her go off and work for just any other organisation potentially carrying their secrets with her?  Then again, she was only a level three grunt so maybe they did not care what she did next.

With a quiet sigh of resignation, she began to unpack the next book on the trolley.  A beep from the automatic doors on the other side of the room made her pause and look up.

“Back again?”  She smiled at her guest.

“I thought I should return this.”  Captain Steve Rogers held up the book he had borrowed the week before.  “I didn’t want to get any library fines.”

Matilda smiled; she enjoyed Steve’s visits, though with a hint of sadness she knew that they would be ending, along with her job.  He had started poking around about a year ago, looking for information on the history of S.H.I.E.L.D, and to bring himself up to speed with the 21st century.  She had pointed him to some relevant books but they had become friendly when she had recommended he watch some of her favourite films.  At the time, he had jokingly remarked that he had been getting so many similar suggestions he should keep a book.  At his next visit, Matilda had a surprise for Steve.  A small grey notebook with his initials embossed on the front.  She had filled the first page with films and books that she felt he should at least look into.

Turning the book on Nelson Mandela over in her hands she remarked, “You shouldn’t have bothered.  This one is due for shredding.”

“No?”  Steve stared back incredulously as she placed the book onto a crate marked ‘Destroy’.  “Why?”

“The books are not needed any more, thanks to this.”  She pointed towards the terminal she had been working on.  “Anything valuable is being sold off, the rest are resigned to a scrap heap…” 

“New era, new broom.”

“Sorry?”

“I was just thinking about something else.  You were saying?”

“It doesn’t matter either.”  Needing to change the subject, she remarked, “So anything new in that notebook of yours I can help you with?”

Steve gave an amused huff, “Not unless you have Marvin Gaye’s discography down here somewhere.”

“I have plenty of dodgy disco back at my apartment if you’re interested.”  She blushed scarlet when she realised what she had said.  “Not that you…  That didn’t come out right.”

Steve just smiled, that quirky one sided smile that gave her goosebumps.

With a deep breath she added, “So anyway…”

He coughed with second hand embarrassment, “I’m not needed anywhere for the little while, do you need a hand?”  He pointed to the full crates.

“Thank you that would be lovely.  They need to go to the loading bay.”  Matilda was glad he had changed the subject before she could let her mouth run away any more.  She watched as he lifted the heavy crate with ease and she rushed to the doors to open them up.  It was only a short walk but she was glad she did not have to carry the box herself this time.  Admiring, yet again, his amazing physique, she could not help but think very unprofessional thoughts.  She pointed down the corridor to indicate they were where the books were being stored.  “Did you see the new exhibition on you that just opened?”

“Yeah, I helped give them some of the background information.”  His eyes dropped slightly, Matilda felt her heart swell in sympathy.

“Don’t look sad, I thought you’d be happy?  It’s quite an honour.”

They reached the bay and Steve placed the box down with ones that Matilda had taken down herself earlier that morning.  “I know it is, I’m just worried it will bring back one too many memories.  Memories I thought, I hoped, I had left long behind.”

They walked back to her office in silence.  When they were back at her desk, she suddenly remembered her gift.  She hoped it would bring a smile back to his face, “Look I’ve brought something of my own I think you might like.”  She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out the brightly coloured hardback book.

Steve took it from her and turning the book over, read the title aloud.  “Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.  A kid’s book?”

“Yes and no.  It was originally written for children but it is an amazing story.  I think everyone should read it and there are six more in the series if you really like it.”

“I’ll give anything a go once.”  Steve flicked through the book before a tone from his pocket forced their conversation to an end.  He glanced down at the message on his phone.  Another sigh left his lips.  “Duty calls I’m afraid.  Thanks for the book, I’ll drop it back as soon as I’m done with it, okay Agent?”

“See you soon, Captain.”  Matilda sighed as she watched him disappear back into the hubbub of the main building.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating of this fic has now been changed from Teen to Mature due to some descriptions of a sexual nature within this chapter. Apologies if this affects anyone's interest in the story.
> 
> This chapter is very much tied to the plot of CA:TWS, so please be aware of spoilers (what are you even doing reading Cap fiction if you haven't seen it by now?!?)

_"Oh God, Steve!_ _There!_ _Yes!”_

Matilda’s sweat dripped into the sheets below her.  The morning sunlight hit her squarely in the face making her squint.  Her own cries had woken her. 

A dream, it had been nothing but a dream.  Dammit.  That was the third one this week, and it was only Thursday.  She was going to have to face facts that maybe this was something more than an innocent infatuation.  Steve was perfect.  He was sweet, and kind, and honest, and funny, and a gentleman.  The fact his upper body looked like a solid chunk of Toblerone, that she just wanted to lick from shoulder to waist, topped with his penchant for tight white t-shirts it was just too much for her sex-starved brain.

However, she had heard them, Agent Romanoff and he, chatting in the corridors or when she had come to retrieve him from the library.  The red head had been trying to set him up with dates with other agents, prettier, more interesting, exciting agents.  Every time he turned down one of Natasha’s suggestions, Matilda would find he would make an extra visit to the library or his visits would last longer.  In this new era of liberated women and sexual freedom, Steve was a man swimming upstream.  He had told her about Peggy, the love of his youth and how she had gone on with her life, thinking him dead.  If he went on even one of those dates, he would gain that insight he needed to function in the modern dating world, but selfishly she knew he would be lost to her.  She and her mousey brown librarian hair, sensible shoes and a figure that, on a good day, could be likened to a beanpole were never going to be a good enough fit for Captain America, for him.

To top it all, after the chat with her boss the day before, she now knew that two weeks today she would be on a plane back to the UK.  He would be forever out of reach.

But here in her bed she decided in this moment that none of that mattered.  Right now, in her mind, she was going to have Steve Rogers up against those bookshelves in the archives.  Or rather, he was going to grab her by the wrist and pin her up against them.  Just that thought sent shivers down her spine.  Her fingers dove under the covers and her cotton pyjamas, and sought out her slit.  Damp from her dream, the merest touch tingled.

_She would be reading a book when she could feel heat on her neck, his weight shifting behind her.  His head poked over her shoulder, resting there._

_"Anything good?" he would ask._

_"Nothing much, just some bits of important research.”  She would reply.  Her attempt at conversation would be halted as his fingers gently pulled the hair away from her neck, his lips would follow tracing gentle kisses down her neck, a light lick to her shoulder.  His hand would slide to her arse, cupping her cheeks, squeezing them.  Her skirt was always shorter in these fantasies than she would ever dare wear in real life, her lack of underwear a given._

_His fingers would slide up her thighs now, slowly, bordering on tickling but forceful enough that she would open her legs without question and he would start to probe_ _her_ _and stroke her clit_ _._

As she now started to do herself.  She knew his fingers were bigger, longer, and thicker than hers were; her three would have to do in place of two of his.  She felt for her small breasts, her nipples hard against her cotton top, a pinch sent a shock down her body.

_Then his hands would grab hers, spin her to face him and while he kissed her deeply one of his hands would grip her pair above her head, lifting her slightly, pinning her, limiting her movement.  His other would resume fucking her with his fingers.  Then when she thought she was about to cum, he would be against her; every single pound of ripped, super soldier would be pushing her against those shelves.  Her mouth would gasp for air and he would fill her mouth with his chest.  Her lips would seek out his nipples and suck and bite on them, hard.  Then she would feel it.  His cock would be magnificently hard and thick and would be deep inside her and oh, oh, oh..._

She never really got much further in her daydream.  Her body shuddered as she relaxed into the orgasm.  Her breath was ragged and the heavy duvet was suddenly stifling as sweat beaded across every inch of her warm skin.

Shaking the image out of her head, resisting the temptation to continue the story, Matilda pushed herself up on to her elbows and announced to the empty room.  "I suppose I'd better get up now.”

\-----

The Triskelion was in chaos.  She had not even made it to the cafeteria to get her morning coffee before she had been told five different versions of events.  For an organisation who dealt in information and secrets, they seemed to be crap at both communicating properly and keeping those secrets.

Yet by the time she got to her desk, she knew two things with almost certainty, Director Fury had been shot and killed overnight, and he had been in Steve’s apartment when it had happened.

She had never seen the Records office so busy, what seemed like hundreds of visitors passed through their doors in that one morning, people accessing files, records, and she helped her colleagues best she could.  Her own work forgotten in the scramble for information and leads.

Matilda had only ever seen Director Fury from a distance, when he had given a speech, as he had stalked down halls or briefly in the staff restaurant, once.  She could not feel the sadness and loss that others around her seemed to feel.

Her mind however was on Steve.  He had known Fury personally, had worked with him on missions and knew they had been part of the Battle of New York together.  Moreover, for him to have been shot in Steve’s apartment, she could not imagine the hurt he would be feeling right now, maybe even guilt as he took things too personally.  Yet she was not going to see him today to be able to express her sympathy to him.  The last place he would visit would be her library; he would be out there looking for the killer, hot on some bad guy’s trail.  Getting hot as his muscles pumped away, chasing someone down a street, his breathing heavy…  Stop it, Matilda!  Several times over that long morning, she had to stop her mind wandering.  Evidently, her morning’s amusement had not been sufficient to keep those thoughts at bay.

It was as she was about to take her lunch break that the screams first came.  Like everyone else within earshot, she ran to the atrium from where they seemed to originate.  Shattered glass lay strewn over the floor.  Looking up she saw that the glass ceiling had caved in.

“Jean!  Jean!”  She called to her friend from Logistics across the gathering crowd.  “What happened?”

“Captain America.”

“Steve?  Steve was here?  What, what happened, is he hurt?”

“He just fell through the ceiling and started running.  People are saying he’s sold out S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Tim from Accounts cut in.  “I heard it was him that killed Fury.”

Someone else decided to join in too, “There were three strike squads chasing after him.  They went that way.”

And then the rumour mill turned once more, everyone keen to share their opinions.  She refused to believe it had anything to do with Steve, other than a bad case of coincidence.  He would not have betrayed Fury or S.H.I.E.L.D.  The Steve who hid behind her bookshelves delving into biographies and history would not have done that.  She did not know who Captain America was and whether ‘he’ was capable.  He was a masthead enigma.  She was not even certain that Steve knew who ‘he’ was any more.  Did the suit and the moniker change who he was, and what he felt, when he faced those life and death situations, or was he still Steve?

The clean-up crews arrived and senior agents emerged, encouraging people to return to their posts to await information.  Jean linked her arm into Matilda’s and was about to whisper another conspiracy theory when they were rocked on their feet by an explosion from outside.  The flames of the wrecked Quinjet that crashed into the bridge separating them from the mainland rose into the sky and the fire alarms began to sound.

The tannoy crackled to life.  _“This is not a drill, all non-essential non-operational personnel to evacuate.  Please proceed in an orderly fashion to the nearest exit.”_

Jean pulled on Matilda’s arm as she pointed to the fire exits on the far side of the atrium.  In the rush of bodies surrounding them, the women were separated as the crowd ebbed towards the exit.

Before she could reach the doors, Matilda felt a tug on her arm.  Expecting to see Jean she spun on her foot, yet came face to chest with the imposing solid mass of an agent.

“Miss Adams.  Come with us please?”  The dark suit, dark shirt, and dark tie of the agent stepped closer and spoke quietly as others surrounded her.

“What’s this about?”  Panic and bile rose in Matilda’s throat, and not from the immediate danger the fire posed.

“Miss Adams, I’m Agent Harris.  For your own safety we’ve been asked to take you upstairs.”

“Why?  What’s wrong?”  Matilda made to take a step backwards but was stopped as two agents now grabbed her arms.

“Miss Adams, you will come with us, now.”

\-----

Matilda felt the palms of her hands getting sweaty.  She did not understand what she was doing here, why they had called her in.  The agent who had introduced himself as Harris pointed to the chair and she felt her knees obey involuntarily.  The room was stark, empty apart from the two chairs, table, and that two-way mirror on the other side of the room, of course, who knew who was standing behind that?

“Please state your name, role and clearance level for the record please.”

Shakily she managed to utter, “Matilda Adams, general archives librarian and I’m level 3 clearance.”

“Thank you Miss Adams.  There is no need to be nervous; I only want to ask you a few questions.”  Agent Harris relaxed into the chair opposite her.

Matilda nodded but knew that if he only wanted to ask a few questions they would be having this conversation over her desk in the library not in an interrogation room in the bowels of a S.H.I.E.L.D. operation centre with two agents outside the door and Agent Harris armed with at least two pistols.

“Your role in the Records department is to do what, exactly?”

“I was the librarian for the general archives.  I maintained a library of general interest books, journals…”

Harris cut in, “You are using the past tense, Miss Adams.”

“Well, yes, my job is pretty much done; I’m on two weeks’ notice.”

“The archives are being shut down?”

“My part, yes.”

“And what is happening to all the records?”

“It’s not records.  Everything I looked after were public documents, books and journals that are easily accessible through any other public library in this city, probably the country.”

“Yet S.H.I.E.L.D. kept copies here?”

“I presumed it was to save Agents having to go to said public libraries.”

The interrogating agent looked thoughtful for a moment.  “You were, however, involved in the Red Box project?”

So that was what they wanted.  “I don’t think you could call it involved.  They were finishing their last week as I was beginning my first.  I helped fetch and carry to help orientate myself.”

“So you weren’t involved in archiving their contents?”

“Not really.  When I was shown how to use the machines the agent I was training under used one of the files as an example.”

“You saw what was inside?”

“Just personnel files I believe.  I didn’t pay any attention, I was too busy worrying I would break the machine.”

“That was the only time you handled the files?”

“I took them for shredding.  Again, I just took the paper out of the boxes and pushed them through the machine.  I was a glorified monkey.”

Harris listened but she knew she was not giving him the answers he wanted when his fingers started to rap on the table.

At that moment one of the agents from outside the door entered the room.  He carried a small, navy blue box, similar to the archive boxes she had been using herself in the library.  Placing it on the table in front of Harris, this new agent bent down and whispered something in her interrogators ear.  Harris nodded and dismissed the man.

“Right, I’ll cut to the chase Miss Adams.  What is your relationship with Captain Steve Rogers?”

“Steve?  No relationship, he’s friendly enough to me, but nothing more.”  Matilda knew that they must have exhausted every option in finding Steve if they were resorting to asking her.

The agent nodded and opened the box in front of him, he appraised the contents before selecting an item.

“And this?”  He placed it on the table in front of her.  It was her Harry Potter book.  “It has your name plate in the front.”

“I lent it to him.  He had been looking for things to read.”  She played it cautiously, she had been working for S.H.I.E.L.D. long enough to know that to do otherwise would be to foolish.

“So the fact it was found in his apartment next to this...”  Steve’s notebook appeared on the table.  “And this was found in the pocket of his spare uniform…  Is this all a simple coincidence?”

She had not been expecting the last item.  Her voice caught in her throat as she tried to answer, “I…  I…  I don’t know what to say, I didn’t even know he had that.  Honestly.”  She looked from the slightly crumpled photograph of herself to the agent.  She recognised it as a print out from her Facebook page.

“And you know that he is now a fugitive from S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“I heard the announcement...”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Feel?  I don’t know…”

“You have no feelings for Captain Rogers?”  His questions were coming faster, she willed her head to stay focused.

“Beyond friendship, no.”

“If I was to ask you if you knew where he would be hiding, I’m sure you will also tell me you do not know.”

She started, “I don’t…”

He cut her off with a wave of his hand.  She knew this was not the assignment Harris had hoped it would be.  She could see in the way he rubbed his eyes that he knew he had not spent all those years at the academy to interview librarians on whether they were in love with superheroes.

Matilda chanced her luck, “Am I free to go?”

“You will be escorted back to your apartment, you will be asked not to leave, and your communications will be monitored.”

“I figured as much.”

The agent scoffed, “You think you’re clever?”

“Me?  No.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latest chapter, enjoy – I just want to add a warning that I have had a head cannon for the past ten years, and so I hope I do not ruin anyone's childhood with my incorporating this into the story. Sorry in advance!
> 
> Dedicated to nephew, whose ideas for fantastical plot points that only a six year could concoct, came in useful for once.

Lying to the agents about the Red Boxes had been easy.  Matilda had been lying most of her life, though it was something she had once sworn she would never do.

After spending most of the afternoon pacing her living room floor, she gave up.  Collapsing back into the sofa, she closed her eyes and decided to face facts; she was not going anywhere anytime soon.  She wished telepathy had been part of the package, maybe then she could reach out warn Steve, but a photographic memory and telekinesis were enough hassle.  With a slight scrunch of her eyes, she switched on the kettle.  This warranted tea, a lot of tea.

Every Red Box that had passed her hands she had devoured the words on the pages as she had passed them through the shredder.  She knew about gamma radiation, she knew about mutants, she knew about Asgard, she knew about HYDRA.  She just did not know what to do with all this knowledge swimming about in her brain.

The kettle came to the boil and she made herself stand and make the tea.  With an agent outside her door and another at the end of her hallway, she needed to be careful.  Up until now, daily chores completed themselves and she had become lazy in her comfortable complacency.

She knew now she was a mutant, _homo superior_.  She knew that most mutants start to exhibit their powers at puberty.  Her photographic memory had been there since birth, the telekinesis had emerged at the age of 5 ½ and at first it had been fun, playing pranks and getting into mischief with her childhood chums.  Yet after a particularly traumatic childhood event, the time came for her to hide and she had begun lying at the age of six, about who she was and what she was, that was when she left the name Wormwood behind.

When she became Matilda Honey, she swore to her adoptive mother that the powers had stopped.  Though in her heart she knew she would have supported her whatever, the fact she had turned the poor woman's life upside down, albeit eventually for the better, made her feel that this was something she would have to deal with on her own.  However, at the age of eight when Miss Honey married the village postman, Mr Adams, Matilda’s double life began with a vengeance.  They wanted, and deserved, normal so she gave it to them.

How that had all lead to her sitting prisoner in her own home and not even for using her powers, was annoying at the very least.  She could have used them countless times at work, in public, to better the world but she did not.  She hid; she kept herself to herself and just tried to get along with everyone, being the quiet one, the friend.  That was the injustice of this whole situation; it was that what had landed herself here on house arrest, for being friendly.

Matilda had never been one for playing the helpless damsel, but at this time, she could not see any way out of her situation.  She remembered all those fairy tales of princesses in towers; would Captain America storm the corridors and come sweep her off her feet?  Be realistic, Matilda, of course he wasn't going to.

However at the same time, despite wishing for all the girl power she could muster, she was no Black Widow or Agent Hill.  She was not going to get out of here in a flurry of gunshots and wheelhouse kicks.

Crap it all.  She was going to be Matilda.  She would be, for the first time in a long time, herself.  She would do what librarians named Matilda do.

She went over to the living room window and looked down.  The view over the city was not quite spectacular from her fourth floor window, but still gave her a good view over the road below.  Chancing to open the window, she glanced out, keeping an eye out for the tell-tale black S.H.I.E.L.D. cars.  Seeing nothing in either direction, she risked opening the window wider.  Her building was of an older design and she was grateful for the large wide windowsills.  Her heartbeat began to pound in her ears, she needed to be brave, for her own safety, she had to be brave.  As her leg swung up to make the first step in climbing out she saw a black SUV turn the corner and begin to come down her road.  If she could describe a car as nonchalant, this car would be it.  Taking a step back and slamming the window down, after a quick glance at her watch she realised it had been almost six hours since they had escorted her home, this would be shift change.

A thought struck her, the bedroom window overlooked the small courtyard garden that the building occupants shared, she would be better to get out that way, and there was even a maintenance ladder to aid her.  She ran to the bedroom and paused briefly.  She realised there was no point making a grab for her passport, or even her credit cards.  Matilda had a grand total of $75 to her name in cash.  The pause became longer.  Even if she got out of the building, where would she go, what would she do?  The futility hit her once again and she contemplated climbing under the duvet and giving up.

She would not give up or give in to this bullying.  She had done nothing wrong; at least what they were accusing her of was not worth this treatment.  The bedroom window was up and she was standing on the window ledge before she knew it.

Heart pounding Matilda reached the bottom of the ladder breathlessly.  Chancing a pause whilst leaning against it, she pricked her ears up the side of the building.  There was no sound from above, the agents had not followed her, maybe they had not even realised she was missing...  Yet she knew she was not out of the woods, they could have called for backup who would be waiting just on the other side of the alleyway that ran the length of the building.  She needed somewhere to go, somewhere they would not expect her to be.  A thought struck her as she peered around the end of the alley, she did have somewhere she could hide.  A second thought struck as she crossed the road and calmed her breathing, would this be too much of a double bluff.  How much were S.H.I.E.L.D. prepared to do to find her?  A bar would be a good first bet, to hide the night away, maybe if she drank her $75 she would not care if S.H.I.E.L.D. came knocking.

\-----

Meanwhile on a rooftop across the city…

“Wait what about that girl from accounting?  Laura?”  Agent Romanoff chanced.

“Lillian.  Lip piercing right?”  Captain Rogers mimed.

“Yeah, she’s cute.”

“Yeah.  I’m not ready for that.”

“What are you ready for?”

“A little bit of peace and quiet would be nice.”

“Oh... oohhhh of course!"  Natasha's eyes lit up.  "The librarian.”

Steve tried to pull the best shocked face he could manage.  “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve seen the way you hang around there.  You’re sweet on her.”

“It’s just friendly.”

“But I thought you’d want someone with a bit more… oomph?”

“Just maybe I don’t want excitement for once, seems to be too much of that in my daily life already.  Matilda is safe, ordinary, normal.”

Agent Sitwell landed at their feet.

\-----

Matilda had been in the apartment enough times to be able to visualise the lock she was about to release.  The last of the vodkas had left her system several hours ago and she had wandered the streets waiting for an opportunity when the crowds of the day would be sufficiently thick to approach the building.  With a satisfying click, she was in.

She would apologise later, she would return what she could.  Matilda knew where her childhood friend kept some spare cash and her passport.  She would get out of the country and escape as Jemma Simmons.

They had called it a ‘Gifted and Talented Camp’.  Even at nine, Matilda decided that ‘Precocious and Annoying’ was a better name for her contemporaries.  However the girl in the next bunk had not been annoying, and far from precocious.  She and Jemma Simmons had bonded over hot chocolate and the periodic table.  They became pen pals, and met up each year at the annual camp as well as sleepovers at each other’s homes.  Jemma had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. whilst Matilda had gone to the University of Bath.  She could have gone to Oxford, Cambridge or S.H.I.E.L.D. (if Jemma's pleadings for Matilda to join her were anything to go by).  However again a self-preservation instinct had kicked in and she knew that Bath would be safer.  Even after she had got this job, Jemma had been the first to greet her off the plane when she'd arrived with no hard feelings and for that she would be eternally grateful.

Matilda didn't know how long she had before someone realised she was gone and where she had gone and came looking for her, but she knew it would be sensible to at least have something to eat, have a shower and maybe even a nap.

Jemma’s fridge was empty bar a half empty jar of jalapeños.  Of course, she was off god knows where, doing god knows what, on her super secret assignment.  But there was some pasta and a can of tomatoes, the makings of a proper student meal.

As she waited for the pan of water to boil she flopped onto her friends sofa and chanced to switch on the TV, might as well see what was happening in the world.

The water boiled dry as Matilda sat open mouthed watching CNN at the giant Helicarriers emerging from the Triskelion, only to see them crash minutes later.

Her relief that she would not be at the top of their priority list was overshadowed by the big question.  What was happening at S.H.I.E.L.D.?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite having lots of help from many lovely folks on the procedures involved in entering and exiting the USA, I’ve basically made most of this up. The realist researcher within me feels I have failed my readers…

Matilda pulled Jemma’s light summer coat on as she exited the taxi.  Glancing around she knew she would have to act casual and relaxed, regardless of the churning within her stomach.  She picked up the small bag she had collected from her friend’s apartment and randomly thrown clothes into and made her way to the check in desk.  She had figured it would be even more suspicious if she had turned up empty handed.  She had bought the ticket less than hour ago online, so she hoped that it had not tripped any security warnings anywhere, or was somehow inconveniencing the real owner of the documents she was carrying.

The check in clerk barely looked at the passport or driving license.  Their obvious stress levels were hitting a high.  The airports reopened only three hours earlier after S.H.I.E.L.D.’s lockdown and now it seemed like everyone in DC was now trying to leave.

Making her way through the security scanners was a breeze, and then she came upon customs.  Here was where it was going to get hard.  The queues formed and the lines shuffled forward slowly.  The lockdown had obviously affected the whole airport, if anything here was the battle line.  She noted the security guards around the room, and there seemed to be a large number of non-uniformed goons too with earpieces, loitering amongst the queues too.

She queued like the polite English girl she was and after what seemed like an eternity, she made it to the front.

“Passport.”  The man’s monotone voice told of long hours of repetitive work.

With only slightly sweaty palms and a smidgeon of a shake, Matilda handed it over.  He turned it over, and without looking at her, used a barcode scanner on the passport.  Glancing between the screen and her the officer clicked several keys on the computer in front of him and she felt the dread building in the pit of her stomach.

“What’s your name?”

“Jemma Simmons.”

“Date of birth?”

“September 11, 1987.”

“I need to inform you that this passport is not valid.”  The customs officer turned the passport over in his hands again and she watched him signal a security guard over.

“Sorry?!”  She did not have to fake the change in pitch to her voice.  “I don’t understand.”

“I need to repeat my question, are you Jemma Simmons?”

“Yes, yes, that’s me.”

With little more than a nod from the customs officer, the security guard placed his hand on her shoulder and spun her to face him.

“Come with me please.”  His voice was deep.

Matilda could feel her eye twitching.  “Why?”

“Come with me, now.”  She felt another hand on her shoulder now from, she presumed, another security officer.  This was beginning to feel a little like déjà vu.

She was lead to a solid door to the side of the lines, she felt more embarrassed being watched by the hundreds of tourists and members of the public, than the annoyance of being caught.

\-----

Another day, another detention room.  She did not think it was possible, but this one was sparser than the one at S.H.I.E.L.D., no two-way mirror for a start.  She also noted there was no CCTV either.  This was a room for secrets.

In the first hour, she counted the ceiling tiles and recited _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ to herself.  During the second, she tried to make patterns in the roughly painted walls whilst remembering Miss Honey’s recipes books.  By the third, she was reduced to reciting pi in her head.  She had gotten to 500 decimal places when the door opened.

A man and woman entered both non-descript people in nondescript black suits.

The woman approached her first.  “Who are you?”

“Jemma Simmons.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Jemma Simmons does not exist; there is no record of anyone with these details on any known database that I am able to access.  Therefore this passport is not valid.”

Matilda was not expecting that.  She knew Jemma and her identity existed, they had travelled home together before, and Jemma used that very passport.  Then it hit her.  Whatever assignment Jemma was buried in, S.H.I.E.L.D. had made her disappear, and she was now _persona non grata_.  Matilda mentally kicked herself, she had been stupid using Jemma’s identity in the middle of a S.H.I.E.L.D. crisis.  She was not quick enough to catch the curse that fell from her lips.

“So you’re not Agent Jemma Simmons of S.H.I.E.L.D?”

“You know I’m not, so why are we playing this game?”

The woman nodded to the man who opened the door.  In strode Agent Romanoff.

“We’re playing this game so we can find out who’s on our side and who’s on H.Y.D.R.A.’s.”  Romanoff turned and dismissed the other two.

“I’m not H.Y.D.R.A.”

“I know you’re not.  But I also know what you _are_.”

“Sorry?”

“Fury had his eye on you for a while.  He let you carry on thinking you were under the radar because you were not a threat.”

“So, am I a threat now?”

“No.  You’re a potential ally, and as you can appreciate we need all the ones we can get at the moment.”

Matilda was gob smacked, this was not going how she had planned.  “And what do you expect from your allies?”

Natasha smiled and sat in the chair opposite her.  “A simple exchange.”

“I don’t see that I have…”

“Information.  Your mind is a very precious commodity, full of many things…  Secrets, for example.  Secrets that come in red boxes?”

“That’s it?  And what do I get in return?”

Romanoff stood again.  “Do you want out of this room?”

“That’s not much of a deal.”

“Let’s go.  We can talk in my car.”  The agent held the door open for Matilda.  She forced her feet to move and followed Romanoff out of the room and down the long corridor.  It was eerily deserted of security and non-descript agents now.

As she trailed like a puppy, Matilda could only speculate at what was going on.  She grabbed hold of the other woman’s arm, “Agent Romanoff, where are you taking me?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is no more, you can call me Natasha.”

“Okay, Natasha, but where are we going?”

“To visit a friend in hospital.”

\-----

Natasha nodded to the security detail and pushed open the door.  Matilda followed dutifully unsure of what she was going to see.

Captain Steve Rogers was sitting up in the hospital bed, playing cards with another man.  The cuts across his face were nothing compared to the large bandage surrounding his abdomen.  When the pair saw Natasha they ceased their game and the man Matilda would soon know as Sam, stood and without a word left the room.  They had obviously been waiting for them, for her.

Steve spoke first, “It’s good to see you again Matilda.”

“You too.”  She cast a glance over all the beeping machines and her gaze lingered too long on his bandages.  “Can I say you look crap?”

Steve laughed as well as he could with his injuries.  “This is better; you should have seen me when they brought me in.”

Matilda half laughed as she stood there avoiding the gaze of the man she had forsaken her job for, and almost her life, and he did not even know it.  A thought passed her mind that the outcome of her story, in the grand scheme of things, would have not made any difference to the position he was in now.

Steve carried on, “I’m afraid I never got to read that book of yours, and I don’t know what happened to it, to give it back to you.”

Picking at the nail of her thumb she answered, “It’s a long story, but I actually have it back.”

“You do?  Thank goodness, I was beginning to worry I would have to replace it for you.”

Matilda stole a glance over her shoulder to where Natasha was leaning against the wall, “I’m assuming I’m not here to discuss Harry Potter.  What’s going on with S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Natasha hasn’t told you?”

“No, she has been fairly cagey, she said you would be able to explain it better.”

“Well, the organization is no more.  We, that is a few of us, are trying to… regroup, rebuild, bring some sort of semblance of order to the chaos that H.Y.D.R.A. have left.  It’s a messy business out there now, no place for a librarian.  I’m sure Natasha can talk to the embassy, arrange passage for you back to England.  To keep you away from everything, to keep you… safe.”

Matilda glanced again over to where Natasha stood.  “I want to help.”

Steve’s brow furrowed, “You weren’t so defensive of S.H.I.E.L.D. when you were shredding those books.”

“That was before…”

Natasha interrupted the moment before it became a moment, “I’m going to check on Sam, make sure he’s not up to mischief out there.”

After the door clicked behind Natasha, Steve pushed himself slightly higher in the bed.  “What happened to you, Matilda?”

“You don’t want to hear it.  I’m a bad person, it’s not important.”

“That I don’t believe.”  His eyes narrowed as Matilda paced a few times before Steve laughed.  “In the past 72 hours I’ve been shot at by my best friend, who I thought was dead but was actually turned into a killing machine by H.Y.D.R.A. _and_ helped blow up three deadly helicarriers that were built by the organization I thought I was serving.  Those are bad things, anything you tell me won’t make me believe that you are.”

Matilda sat in the chair beside him, and as she relayed her abridgedexperience from the past couple of days, she could not help but bite her fingernails as she avoided telling him her deepest truth.

“Oh Tilly, you went through all that for me?”

Matilda stopped short at the contraction.  “No one’s ever called me that before.”

“What?”

“Tilly.”

“I’m sorry, it just came out.  Matilda was a popular name when I grew up, most of them went by Tilly.  Do you not like it?”

“It’s different.”

“It suits you.”

They sat quietly for a moment, the steady beeps of the machines checking Steve’s vital signs the only noise.

Steve broke the silence first.  “Just a couple of things that are bothering me.”

“Yes?”

“Well, a few things really.  Firstly how did you get into Simmons’ apartment?”

Matilda had the audacity to look sheepish.  He was a smart man; she should not have been surprised he found the plot holes.  “I suppose that is the real reason I’m staying.  Agent Romanoff has _persuaded_ me to be a help to humanity for once, rather than hiding behind my books.”

“I’m a straight talking man, Tilly, what is it you are you trying to tell me?”

“It’s better if I show you.”  She blinked several times before concentrating on the table beside Steve.

Steve watched in a strange mix of awe and confusion as the cards he and Sam had been playing with lifted into the air and began to shuffle themselves.

“That’s you?”  His eyebrow raised.  Matilda nodded and the cards floated gently down in a neat pile.  "How?"

"I'm a freak of nature apparently."

Steve was quiet for a moment or two.  "And you still want to help us?"

"Of course."

"Are you saying that because Natasha threatened you or because you truly want to help?"

Matilda chose her words carefully. "I want to help you, Steve."

There was a hint of a smile on Steve's lips. "That's what I thought you would say."

“Now you’ve heard my story, I should leave you to get some rest.”

Steve nodded and gave half a smile.  She stood and as if making up her mind leant over and kissed him gently on the forehead.  Her lips lingered a moment and below her she heard Steve’s breath hitch.

She pulled back, appalled at her own audacity.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.”  The machine to his left showed an elevated heart rate.  “You can stay longer if you want.  I can introduce you to Sam, we can chat more…”

“I need to sleep, and shower.  I stink.”

Steve smiled softly at her.  “You’ll come back later though?”

“Of course.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Tilly?”  A hand waved in front of her face.  Her neck snapped upwards coming face to face with Steve’s concerned look.  “Are you okay?  You were miles away.”

If the truth be told she was not miles away, she was right there, with him.  Yet in her mind, he was entirely out of in his sweaty workout gear and she was getting a little sweaty with him right in the middle of the living room floor of the safe house, not frustratingly squirming on her seat at the dining table, trying to recreate the Red Box files on her laptop.

“I’m fine, just trying to remember the next bit of this file.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her, well aware of the blatant lie in her abilities.  “Are you sure about that?”

What did he expect her to say?  _‘I’ve typed less than a page over the past hour because I’ve been watching you work out.’_   This ‘nothingness’ had been building between them since forever.  He was a national celebrity, a hero; she was a glorified typing pool.  He was free with his opinions and his affections for others; she was a horny, frustrated, and very much jealous of everyone he spoke to.

"I think I'm just tired.”  She rubbed her eyes to try to emphasise.

Steve wiped his face with his workout towel.  "You need a day off."

"I can't.  Natasha has the hearing tomorrow; she needs everything I can give her."

"Then how about lunch?  Just step away from the screen for a bit?  Even your boss can't deny you that much."  Steve cocked his head to the side and gave a small smile, the joke of her being Natasha's assistant was becoming a bit of a recurring one.

“I suppose an hour for lunch won’t hurt.”

“That a girl.  Just give me 10 minutes to shower and I’ll meet you back down here.”  He disappeared upstairs in the direction of the bathroom.

She nodded and smiled but inwardly cursed him for putting even more imagery in her head.  She saved her documents and started to close down the laptop.  As she began to gather her personal items, Natasha and Sam arrived back.

“Did you get everything you needed?”  Matilda asked them, pushing the last bits into her handbag.

Natasha glanced around the room.  “Err, yeah.  No Steve?”

“He’s just showering.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow but it was Natasha who continued, “At this time of the day?”

“He’s been working out.  With the weights.”  Matilda emphasised the last part.

Sam gave her a wink and went off down the hallway to the kitchen.  Over his shoulder he called, “Anyone want a sandwich?”  Natasha said no and Matilda blurted out that Steve was taking her out.  Smiling at them both he continued walking.

Before Matilda had a chance to excuse herself, Natasha caught her arm.  The grip was not hard, but there was a force there that Matilda did not want to mess with.  “How’s it going?”

“Well, I’m up to number twenty; they’re on the stick there plugged into the laptop…”

“That’s not what I meant.  With Steve, how’s it going with Steve?”

Matilda stammered at her directness, yet she should not have been surprised, it was a long time coming for Natasha to have not realised.  “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know what you want, what you want to happen between you two, and heaven knows he needs to relax a little bit after all the stress.  I think you might  just be the person to help him do that.”

“I’m not sure I am.  Surely, there are other people who would be better suited to him, like you for example?”

Natasha laughed, “Me?  No.  Steve and I are… friends, and that is a line neither of us want to cross now we’ve finally got that far.”

Matilda bit her lip, she knew what she wanted to ask next, but really did not want to ask it.  “What about Sam?”  She glanced down the hallway to kitchen.

Natasha nodded, as she understood her predicament in asking.  “If we were a few years further down the line, I might have suggested Sam instead but…”

Matilda’s heart leapt into her throat.  “But?”

“The truth is I don’t know what Bucky was to Steve…”

“Are we not talking about Sam?”

“Let me finish…  For Steve the 1940s are only 3 years ago, certain attitudes are hard to lose.  If there was something between him and Bucky there would have been a stigma attached.  Even if he had been open about it, the past few weeks have been a trying time and have thrown his emotions into a blender.  Sam is a good man, and would be a good man to Steve.  But Steve needs to get over Bucky first.”

Matilda listened to Natasha’s words and a realisation formed in her head.  “So you want me to be a rebound…  ‘thing’ for Steve,” she couldn’t bring herself to say the word fuck, “until he gets his head sorted and can be openly gay, or bi, or whatever he is?!”  Her face was red with anger.

“That’s not what I’m saying…”  Natasha implored.

Matilda threw her hands on her hips, “Well that’s what it sounds like.”

Their raised voices brought Sam out of the kitchen.  “Is everything okay ladies?”

Natasha frustratingly waved her hand signalling him to go back and leave them for a few more minutes.  “Matilda, listen, calm down.  Steve likes you, he said so himself.  I think he would like to see you as more than a friend too.  One of you has to make the first move otherwise you will both just sit there being nothing.”

There was a click as the water boiler turned itself off, and both women’s eyes wandered to the ceiling as they heard Steve exiting the bathroom.

Natasha’s voice dropped to a whisper to save her next statement being overhead.  “I’m not a fool Matilda, we share a room so I know what you do in bed at night when you think I'm asleep, and ten bucks says Steve’s just been doing something similar in the shower.”

Matilda’s eyes grew wide in shock.  “I don't…  I don’t know what you mean…”

The conversation stalled from going any further by Steve’s heavy footsteps skipping down the stairs.  The glow of sweat had been replaced by a glow of cleanliness, his fresh t-shirt and jeans straining to hold onto his form.  Natasha really needed to pay more attention to the size of clothes she was buying for him.  Or, a thought flickered across Matilda’s mind, Natasha knew exactly what she was doing buying a size slightly too small.

“Are you ready?”  Steve looked from Matilda to Natasha.  “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nothing.”  Both women looked as innocent as they could.

“Sure.”  Steve raised his eyebrows and shook his head disbelievingly.  “Shall we go, Tilly?”

Looking to Natasha for that final permission and she was presented with small nod, Matilda grabbed her bag.  “I’m ready.”

\-----

The lunch conversation was very much a one sided affair.  Steve was happy to chat about everything and nothing whilst Matilda prodded her panini and picked at the lettuce.  Every now and again when he took a bite of his own food, she chanced a glance at him.  A blush spread across her neck when he caught her looking.

“Sorry.”  Matilda tried to apologise.

Steve’s grin was broad and Matilda blushed more as she watched in awe as the room lit up as it always did when he smiled with such honesty.  “Look, if you’re not going to make conversation with me here, do you fancy coming to the cinema this afternoon and not talking there?  There’s a showing of the Godfather trilogy, extended editions, back to back.”

“The Godfather?”

“Yes, it was one of the things you told me to put in my notebook.  Remember?”

Matilda felt herself laugh for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime.  “Oh, yes.  One and two are definitely worth it, but we don’t have to stay for three.”

“Great.”  Steve glanced at his watch.  “We’ve got about half an hour until it starts so will you please eat that sandwich now?”

Matilda smiled again and took a bite out of the bread.  This was beginning to sound like a date.  A real life date with Captain America.  No, she had to tell herself.  It was a date with Steve, just her and Steven Rogers.

\-----

As they entered the screen with only minutes until curtain up, the complete emptiness of all the seats surprised them both and Matilda suppressed a giggle.

“Well, where do you want to sit?”  Steve grinned back.  Yet before Matilda could answer, he had grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the middle.

His hand felt warm in her hand.  Several calluses ridged his fingers and she tried to memorise every one before he decided to let go of her hand.  However, he did not let go.  He held tight as he found the seats he was looking for.

“Not the back row?”  She risked cheekily.

“Acoustics are no good back there; you need to be around three or four rows forward, and then never dead centre, just slightly to one side depending on if you have a dominant ear.  Mine was always the left, now both are equal, so I'm happy to sit wherever you are best.”

“You've thought this through a lot.”  She removed her cardigan and lay it on the seat before her.

Steve began to make himself comfortable beside her.  “I spent a lot of time in cinemas when I was younger.  No TV you see.  Now, I am catching up where I can.  Before… before a few weeks ago, I was coming at least twice a week.”

Before he could impress her further with his knowledge of the science of voyeurism, the lights began to dim and the noise from the trailers began to blare out.  They settled into the seats and before ten minutes had passed; his hand had sought hers out in the darkness and gripped it tight once more.

As the credits rolled for the first film, Steve offered to get refreshments for them both.  With him gone, Matilda’s mind began to work out how to move this forward.  They had at least another three hours in the dark, six if they actually stayed for the third film.  Could she keep pretending this was just nothing with Natasha's words still rattling around her head?

Steve reappeared with two large sodas and a massive bucket of popcorn in his large grip.  Her stomach still felt full from their lunch but popcorn was not real food, really, was it?  As he made it to the end of the aisle, Matilda bit her lip as she tugged with her mind on the popcorn container.  Out of shock, he let it go and watched as it floated away from him and landed on Matilda's lap.  Watching him smirk as he scooted along the seats, she began to pop the kernels into her mouth.

“You realise that talent of yours could be better used than for stealing popcorn?”

“I know,” she grinned back, and the armrest between their seats lifted by itself and with only a hint of trepidation, Matilda patted the seat next to her.

“That’s very forward of you.”

“Apparently one of us has to be.”

Steve had the reticence to blush.  The title card of the Godfather II appeared and the house lights dimmed.

Once again, the darkness surrounded them and this time it was she who sought his hand.  Yet before she could find it, she felt his arm snaking around her shoulder.  His large palm rubbed over her upper arm slowly and deliberately, she could do nothing in return except lean into him and revel in his warmth and solidness.

Around the hour mark, with the popcorn gone, Steve’s arm pulled her tighter into him, as he bent his lips to her ear.

“Tilly?”  Steve’s whisper could barely be heard over Vito’s ranting.

“Yes?”  She matched his volume, wondering why they were so quiet.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You don't have to ask.”

“Sorry, I was brought up to respect women.”

“No, I mean yes, please kiss me, you don’t have to ask, you can kiss me whenever you want.”

She looked into his eyes.  Their blueness reflecting the flickering screen, the pupils blown wide in the dark.  Before she could lose herself in them for long, his long eyelashes flittered as his eyes closed and his head moved towards hers.  She echoed his actions as his lips touched hers.  There was more warmth behind them and the brief touch became deeper as his lips pushed against hers.

Before she had a chance to overthink it all he was pulling back.  Matilda chanced, “That was nice.”

“It was wasn't it?  I think I can do better, want to try again?”

“Yes…”  His lips crashing into hers cut off any longer sentence.

They continued to lazily make out as the Corleone family dramas played on.  Their hands skimmed over clothes but neither made a move to take it further, the innocence of simply kissing was pleasurable enough.  Besides, they were alone in the darkness but that did not mean they were about to expose themselves to any cinema employees.

The film ended before they knew it.

“I think I'm going to have to watch this film again, I appear to have missed the second half.”  Steve mused, mumbling into Matilda's mouth.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don't be.”  Steve took Matilda's chin in his fingers and pulled her back in for another kiss.  “One question though…”

“Hmmm?”  Matilda’s bruised lips tingled as she hummed.

“Is the third film really that bad that can I take you home now and not miss any great cinematic masterpiece.”

“It really is that bad.”

“I'm glad you said that.  Let's go.”

They stood and gathered their bits and as Steve reached over to take her hand to lead her out of the cinema, Matilda pulled on his arm to bring him down to her level for yet another kiss.

They grinned like schoolchildren as they ran from the cinema, right into the middle of a torrential downpour of rain.  With further giggles and squeals, they ran down the road, Steve urging her along as she fought to keep the giant droplets out of her eyes.

The safe house was only half a mile away yet by the time they made it to the front door they were both soaked to the skin.  As Steve fumbled for the keys Matilda pressed her body up against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist.  The door swung open and Steve turned around and pulled her back into him for another kiss.  He stumbled backwards into the hallway pulling her with him.  Gasping and giggling, they untangled themselves from each other and Steve pulled away and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel.

Devoid of his body and his lips, Matilda stared into the hallway mirror and assessed the damage the rain had caused.  Pulling on her hair tie she let the dripping tendrils brush over her shoulders, the knots forming as she watched, however it was the redness of her lips that surprised her.  Kissing Steve for over an hour non-stop had left its mark on them.

Steve reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, a towel around his own shoulders as he held out another for her.  She took it gratefully and as she wrung out the ends of her hair into the towel, she felt his body move towards her.  His hands, warm again now, rubbed over her shoulders and with a sigh of contentment she let her head lull to the side.

His lips began at her earlobe and worked their way down her neck. 

"How was ‘lunch’?”  Natasha appeared in the doorway to the living room.  She leant casually against the doorframe as she assessed the view before her.

Steve broke away first, “Nat, it's my fault, I'm sorry…”

Natasha waved her hand dismissively, “It's a good job your phone has GPS on it, but next time I'd appreciate you let me know if you're going to kidnap my assistant for the whole afternoon.”

Steve mumbled an apology to Natasha as his feet sheepishly pushed the carpet pile around.

“Don't worry about it, just don't stay up too late.”  Natasha gave Matilda a wink, which Steve could not have missed, before disappearing upstairs.

They exchanged another long glance before Steve broke the silence.  “I don't think that we should…”

Matilda finished, “with Sam and Natasha here…”

“Yes.  You understand I want to?”

“Me too.”

“Shall we call it a night?”

Matilda nodded reluctantly glancing at her own watch, it was only 10:00 but she felt drained.  “I will see you for breakfast?”

“Of course.”  Steve bent over and kissed her cheek gently.  “Until breakfast.”  He glanced over his shoulder as he climbed the stairs once again.  Matilda counted to 100 before following up the stairs and reluctantly entered her own bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains scenes of a sexual nature.

Matilda watched from the kitchen stool as Steve sat opposite her and took further notes from the manila file in front of him.  His frenetic hand scrawled across the page of his notebook.  It was a new one, it was black.  The triviality of the grey notebook, and its contents, were now forgotten in favour of this sombre new document.

“You're going after him.”  Not a statement, not a question, for she knew.

“I have to.”  He did not look up from his writing.

“When?”  The coffee dregs at the bottom of her mug suddenly held her interest.

He looked up at that.  “Sam and I agreed to leave in the morning.  We have a possible lead but… there is no point trying anything until we've explored everything we can here.”

“Steve…”

“Don’t…”

She stared down into her coffee cup once more.  It was all so unfair.

He made his way around the breakfast bar and stood over her.  Pushing her hair behind her ear, he commented.  “Natasha will look after you and I will be back as soon as I can.”

“With him in tow?”  Matilda set her empty mug on the surface in front of her.

Steve’s face set into a stern stare.  “If he will come.”  When she made no move to reply, he continued, “Tilly, you have to understand, he was my best friend.  I lost him once; I am not doing that again.  I will fight to my last breath to bring him home.  To bring him back to me.”

“Okay.”  Matilda’s voice was quiet and without wanting to hear any more she turned away from him and slid off the stool.  As she walked out of the kitchen and towards the stairs, her heart broke.  It had been too good, too fast, so of course it was not real.  It was a moment of infatuation that had come from them working and living within the same four walls for the past three weeks.  Trudging heavily up the stairs she realised she was nothing to him, now he had a chance to be with Bucky, she was a mere irritation.

“Tilly!”  She reached the top as Steve reached the bottom of the stairs below her.  “Where are you going?”

“Just out of your way, you can make your plan without me being a distraction.”

“No you don’t.”  Just like that, he was up the stairs two at a time until he could look her in the eye.  He was still two steps lower than she was.

“What?”  Matilda blurted out.

“You think you’re in competition with Bucky?”

“Aren’t I?”

“I don’t know if he’s alive or dead, I don’t know if he’s still under H.Y.D.R.A.’s control or if his memories are returning.  All I know is that he looked out for me when the rest of the world turned their back.  I just have to repay that favour… if I can.”

Matilda hated herself for the words before they even left her mouth.  “Yet you are going after him, and leaving me here.”

“You could come, if you are ready to be the person I know you can be.”  Steve watched the flash of confusion cross her face.  “But you’re not sure of your own powers.  You, my beautiful girl, may think you know what you can do, but I don’t think you are anywhere close to being as brilliant as you could be.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you want to be of use to me, or think you need to prove something to me, stay.  Stay here, stay safe, but start to put your powers to better use than just carrying popcorn and switching on lights.

“So you’re just going to go all Yoda on me and still skip out?”

Steve laughed as he took her hands.  “Yoda.  That’s funny, that’s Star Trek…”

“Wars, you nerd.”  She laughed along with him.

“Give me a break; I got half the name right.”

“Careful, people have been castrated for less.”

Their giggling subsided and that awkward silence filled the space between them again.  Matilda realised she had nothing left to lose.  She leant over and kissed him deeply, a serious kiss, and she was relieved when he returned it.

His hands found their way to her hair and he pulled her lips into his even deeper.  Their lazy make out style from the previous day returned, yet this time Matilda knew that she was not going to let him go so easily.

Steve broke the kiss apart first.  “Let’s move before one of us falls down the stairs.

His hands took hers, and led her into his bedroom.  Their kisses resumed as his leg hooked the door, pushing it shut with a loud bang.  With little more than gentle pushed he lead her to the bed.  She kissed him one last time again and then slid back slowly onto the duvet, unbuttoning the top few buttons of her blouse.  She looked up at him, watching as a new intensity took his eyes.  A slight nervousness touched her, but she suppressed it, no matter what tomorrow brought.  She could hold this moment forever, especially if this was to be her first, last, and only time with him.  She would not ruin it with fear or second-guessing.  She now knew she loved him too much.  His eyes travelled the length and breadth of her body, licking his lips lightly.  Was he nervous?  He seemed smaller than normal, suddenly, and very unsure of himself.  Matilda decided to take the lead before either of them changed their minds.

She pulled him closer to her, kissing him deeply, leading his hand gently to the next button, anxious to feel what this would be like with such a gentle man as he.  She smiled into the kiss as she felt his fingers deftly work to open her blouse fully, he had taken her hint, and his moves became bolder and surer.  For such large hands, he had nimble fingers.  Pulling away, Steve slowly worked his hands and eyes along her soft, pale skin.  His hands felt wonderful against her.  She shifted slightly, moisture building against the material of her knickers.  A tingling sensation ran across her body, sending ripples of pleasure firing through her like lightning.  Just this from a mere touch of his hand, she could hardly wait for the rest now.  Heat rose in her skin, the fluttering a thousands of butterflies filling her tummy.  She sat up at his direction, shivering as he slid her blouse away; nimble fingers working open the clasps of her bra.  Soon, she was completely topless and in him arms, kissing him deeply, almost wildly.

Just from the way his lips played against hers, she thought her body might explode, but Steve was finally not satisfied with that alone.  His lips slowly marked a trail from hers to her jaw, down her chin and across her neck.  His tongue flashed out under a tightly sealed mouth.  The flat of his tongue slid along her skin and she squirmed harshly, eyes rolling.  Oh, how she loved this, and how she needed this.  His tongue left her skin and she whimpered, aching for him now.  His lips marked another trail from her neck to her breasts, circling them twice each, and then closing in slightly on her rose-stained nipples, circling again.  He teased her like this until she felt his breath on her nipples, but never moved closer.  She could have screamed from the torment.  He was so tantalizingly close, and all he was doing was playing games with her.  A wave of erotic heat suppressed her moment of anger.  She hated waiting for it, but knew the anticipation would make her pleasure more overpowering.

His tongue lightly slid out, caressing the thick flesh of her nipple as breath rushed out of her lungs that she had no idea she had been holding in.  As if that were a sign for him, he leaped into action, taking her nipple between his lips and suckling gently at it.  Her other nipple suddenly danced in pleasure as his fingers turned and rolled and tugged it slowly.  Another lifetime passed while pleasure built up in her, filling her completely.  Had he continued, she would have exploded in sexual energy.  However, he pulled away, switched slowly, and took her other nipple between his lips, suckling.  The already suckled nipple lay moist and stiff, chill against the cool air of the room.  Fingertips pressed into it now, easing it again to a sexual peak.

Unable to stand much more, she groaned, writhing under his attentions.  He knew what he was doing.  His hands eased down her body suddenly, yet his lips and tongue eased along her nipple, sending pulsed of lightning through her, straight to her swollen clit.  The ache between her thighs screamed for attention, but it was he who was in control now.  Just as she was about to voice her pleas for his attention, he pulled on her skirt and the rest of her clothes slid off easily.  His lips left her nipple, leaving it much as the first one, then followed a slick trail down her bust, across her stomach, around the edges of her tummy, up and down her sides, and stopped just at the inside of her hips where the bundles of nerves made her engorged clit scream in agony of impatience.

His lips teased her once more, toying along the inside of her hips, inching down her body as slowly as possible without standing still.  His tongue lashed across her inner thighs, edging closer and closer to her enflamed sex.  A sound filled her ears suddenly, a moaning breath, emanating from her own chest.

As slowly as he made it to where he was, he slowed down even more as he finally reached where she wanted him to be.  Emotions aside, she needed him now.  She wanted him inside of her.  She was going to scream, and did not care who heard.  Let them hear.  She wanted satisfaction, her instincts had taken over, and she did not care. 

A warm tongue pressed against her clit once, slid along its length, then eased away, cold breath of air following immediately afterwards.  She did scream then, a sound so piercing, it was a wonder she did not break the mirror in the room.  The air stopped and his tongue lashed out as her clit once more.  Just as before, the one lick was all she received before the cold air caressed her burning clit.  Had his hands not been holding her thighs, she would have crushed his head to keep that wonderful tongue in place.  Her mind reeled as his thumbs began to play along with the cold air, tracing ever so gently across her thighs, stopping where she felt it most.  Eyes rolling wildly, she could not think on any one thing at a time.  His tongue flashed again, and she flinched as if stricken.  Cold air followed yet again.  She wanted to cry out for him to stop it, but knew that she did not actually want him to stop.  His tongue dragged across her aching clit and she whimpered as if in pain, then as she expected his breath once more, his tongue reached out again instead.  This time buried itself between her folds and lapped.  It thrust and licked her and her body began to shake with the onslaught.  His name left her lips with a screech and her quivering thighs gripped his head.

As she felt the flush leave her chest Matilda lifted her head to see him, Steve began to climb back onto the bed.  Her juices were smeared across his face and between his legs his cock was red and solid and from the pained look on his face, she knew there was an ache inside of him.  He rested his arms on either side of her head.  As he positioned himself at her entrance, he looked down into her eyes and saw the impending satisfaction and happiness.  He pressed the head of his shaft against her, and leaning down, kissed her as he thrust inside.

So soon after her recent orgasm, she could feel her wetness helping him slide in and out of her.  His body trembled as he thrust back and forth, his body rising and falling over hers.  He looked down and saw the pleasure coursing through her face, he leant in and kissed her, his lips descended to her breasts as he kissed her everywhere he could reach, all the while his hard shaft plunged in and out of her, despite every part of his body protesting, he slowed his thrusts down to savour every moment.

Her cries begin to climb again, she cried louder and louder until she began to peak again.  Her body tensed around him, her pussy clamped down around his shaft.  He kissed her and begin driving into her fully now, his shaft pistoning in and out of her, her whispered words of passion ringing in his ears as he thrust into her.

Their bodies entwined together as he pushed deeply, the breath rasping from their bodies in gasps as they made love in the middle of the bed, their bodies trembling as their climaxes came close.  Matilda looked up into his eyes and he could not help but fall deep into them as he thrust himself deep inside her for the last time and finally blast after blast of his hot seed filled her as the restraint he had held for the past few days was finally released.

Steve was rewarded with Matilda’s own cries ringing out one last time into the room as they collapsed onto the bed together.  His arms wrapped round her, holding her close to him as he kissed her all over until they finally drifted off into an exhausted slumber arm in arm.

\-----

Matilda rolled over.  The bed beside her was empty.  She knew it would be, but hoped it had been a dream.  However, this nightmare was real, the one where Steve had gathered his things in the dawn light, kissed her on the forehead, and slipped quietly from the room.  She was not going to cry for that implied a weakness.

Natasha rapped lightly on the door and called her name.  “Matilda, are you in there?  Your bed was not slept in.”

"Yes.  I’m in here."  Matilda scrambled with the bed covers, pulling them up over her naked body.

Natasha’s face appeared around the doorframe.  Her eyes took in everything that the scene presented to her and even Matilda could read her conclusion.  "I'm sorry,” was all the spy could say.

"You should be.  It's your fault."  Matilda had not meant it so venomously, but she needed to be angry with someone.

Natasha nodded, understanding.  "We still have work to do if you are willing to not hold too much of a grudge."

Matilda lifted her clothes with her mind from the floor as Natasha looked on.

Enviously the red head remarked, "You really don't know what I would give to be able to do that."

Matilda scoffed as she untangled the bra from her blouse.  "Never found a use for it beyond my own laziness."

"You are joking right?"  Natasha’s hands rested on her hips as she surveyed the meek girl in front of her.  Matilda looked back quizzically.  "Oh, Steve was right about you.  Tomorrow we are _so_ going to see Clint about this.  Projectiles are his thing and he's going to love you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading and for all the lovely comments.
> 
> I don't think this is the end of Matilda's journey in the Marvel universe, but until S2 of AoS and AoU, I don't feel I can carry the story on without possibly being contradicted by canon at a later date.
> 
> In the meantime, feel free to check out some of my other stories :)


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